


A Family Affair

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Napoleon's parents - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: A mission to prove the ties of a Las Vegas casino owner to THRUSH is complicated when Napoleon's parents arrive at the same casino for some recreation--and apparently have a history with the mission’s target.





	1. Act I: Blood Will Out

There was no doubt that Napoleon was in his element from the moment he and Illya had landed in Las Vegas for their mission. The casinos beckoned with their call, and Napoleon was more than eager to answer—it was lucky that their mission was to investigate a casino whose owner was supposedly allowing THRUSH to use it as a supply and finance depot.

“A fairly straightforward mission, when you think about it,” Napoleon said, eagerly looking around at the green felt tables upon which several games were being played. “All we have to do is get proof that the owner of the Paradise Hotel and Casino is knowingly allowing THRUSH to use this place, and we can bring him in.”

“And here he is,” Illya said, taking out the photograph that had been in the briefing files. “Thomas Rex, owner and proprietor. He’s been in the gambling business here in Las Vegas since the 1920s—of course, gambling was illegal until 1931, but there was quite an underground gambling ring back then. Needless to say, I’m sure he has made agreements with many a shady character over the decades if it meant lining his pockets with a little extra.”

“He probably doesn’t realize how dangerous THRUSH is,” Napoleon intoned. “Once he is no longer any use to them, they’ll kill him.”

“If we can convince him of that, then he will hopefully give us all the names of those he’s interacted with,” Illya said. “Then, it will simply be a matter of chasing them down. Do you think he will talk?”

“It’s been my experience that when money is involved, as well as a lack of understanding about the level of danger, they usually end up talking,” Napoleon mused. “…Sometimes, more money is required, but I consider that an investment, especially if we can round up some THRUSHies from it.”

“While I understand that, I do hate the thought of giving that opportunistic, greedy fellow money,” Illya frowned.

“Not that he’ll have much chance to enjoy it in prison if we can prove he was complicit.”

“Now that, I can live with,” Illya said. “What do you suggest we do first?”

“Well, if we can somehow bring Rex out into the open, that’ll be good for starters; we could see if you can get one of your handy trackers on him without him realizing it,” Napoleon said. “He’s bound to have passageways here in case he needs to hide money or make a quick exit; a tracker will help us find exactly where he is.”

“True,” Illya nodded. “But how do we flush him out?”

“Easy—have someone win so much that it grabs his attention,” Napoleon grinned. “And I am just the man for that job.”

“You certainly are,” Illya mused. “The amount of luck you have is truly extraordinary—such as being able to indulge in gambling despite being on duty.”

“…Hey, we want to drag him out here, right?”

“Enjoy yourself, Napoleon,” Illya said, with a smile. “I was only teasing. You are correct, it is a good way to get him out without making him suspicious. I will look around and see if anything seems out of the ordinary—and cover you in the process.”

“Thanks,” Napoleon returned. 

So, as Napoleon sat down at a poker table, mingling with the other players and the dealer, Illya kept a watchful eye on him, making sure that any THRUSHies weren’t going to try to sneak up on him, assuming he was noticed.

Illya was so absorbed watching that he didn’t even notice when two very familiar people entered the casino—at least, not until they approached him.

“Illya?”

The Russian whirled around, not expecting to see Napoleon’s mother standing beside him in the middle of a mission.

“Mother!” he exclaimed, quietly, addressing her as such by her request (she had long since considered him a member of the family). “What are you doing here?”

Before answering, she held out her arms to him, and he obliged her with a hug.

“Oh, it’s such an unexpected surprise to see you!” she said. “Well, it turns out that Leopold and I were talking about how we hadn’t taken a vacation in so long, and so, we decided to visit Las Vegas—we hadn’t been here since the ‘20s! …It certainly has changed, hasn’t it?”

“…I shall take your word for it, Mother,” Illya said, looking over to make sure Napoleon was doing alright. He was, thankfully. “Where’s…?”

“Leopold? Oh, he’s getting us some drinks; if I’d known you and Napoleon were here, I’d have had us all sit down for a drink together.”

“How did you know--?”

“I can smell his cologne a mile away,” Cora said, with a roll of her eyes. “If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times not to overdo it with that Bay Rum… And he used to wonder how I knew when he snuck out and back in again? He never figured out that I literally used my nose.” She turned around towards the poker table. “Aha, see? There he is. Oh, and what do you know? There’s an open spot at the poker game… I think I’ll go surprise him…”

“Mother, I don’t think that’s a good idea; we’re in the middle of--!”

He stopped himself, not wanting to blow his cover, and just cringed as Cora sat down next to her son. She didn’t draw any attention to herself, thank goodness; she was acting as though she hadn’t seen him.

Napoleon, who had been counting his stack of white poker chips, quickly glanced to the side as she sat down and looked back, resuming his counting. He then froze as he finally registered what he had just seen, and did a priceless double-take to confirm that it was, indeed, his mother sitting beside him.

“Ahh, I’m done here,” he said to the dealer, and he collected his chips, gave a nod of greeting to his mother, and got up from the table.

Cora shrugged and started playing the game despite Napoleon having left. Napoleon, in the meantime, sought Illya out and headed to him.

Illya merely greeted him with a “tsk-tsk-tsk.”

“For shame, Napoleon—not wanting to play cards with Mother?”

“You’ve never seen Ma play cards, have you?” Napoleon asked.

“ _Nyet_ , but I have seen you play cards, and you are quite the shark.”

“Let me put it this way, Illya… Do you remember when I told you about who taught me how to play poker?”

“ _Da_ ; you said it was your grandmother. She also taught you how to grift.”

“Exactly. That was my _maternal_ grandmother.”

Illya’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Cora for a moment before glancing back at his partner.

“You don’t mean to tell me that _Mother_ \--!?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I mean,” Napoleon said. “You just watch—she’s going to clean out everyone at that table, and if I hadn’t gotten out of there when I had, I would have been collateral damage!”

“The apple does not fall far from the tree, evidently,” Illya mused. “But I have a difficult time believing that Mother could be a shark!”

“Believe it,” Napoleon’s father said, from behind them.

The duo turned to see Leopold standing there with the drinks; they exchanged greetings, and then Leopold cast a wistful look at his wife.

“The first time I met her was in a speakeasy casino here in Las Vegas, 45 years ago.”

“… _What_ …?” Napoleon asked, staring at his father as though he had just spoken an alien language. Illya, on the other hand, looked intrigued. “But… wasn’t there a law against gambling back then?”

“And you think you mother and I didn’t know about the time you took the car for a joyride when you were 15 and without a license? The ‘20s were quite a time, Boys, and the forbidden fruit often was the most tempting,” Leopold said, as Napoleon went bright red. 

“Bay Rum in the car…” Illya murmured under his breath.

“What?” Napoleon asked.

“Nothing…”

“Anyway,” Leopold said. “That’s how I met Cora—a poker game. …And she cleaned me out, mercilessly.”

Illya was looking at Cora now with a new admiration as she added to a rapidly-growing pile of poker chips.

“I must say, I am quite glad to be a part of this family.”

Napoleon just gave a still-stunned nod.

“But, do tell me,” Illya went on. “What is this about you and taking the family car on a joyride when you were 14?”

There was a long, awkward pause.

“I’m going to, ah, hit the blackjack table,” Napoleon said, trying to ignore Illya’s quiet snarking.

It was best to focus on the mission, anyway; between him at the blackjack table and his mother at the poker table, they were sure to lure out Rex, as far as he was concerned. That was going to be the easy part; the complicating factor now would be trying to continue with their mission now that his parents were there and would, undoubtedly, want to spend some quality time together with them.

Illya was already finding that a challenge—he had quickly sobered once Napoleon and Cora both continued playing games. Leopold, in the meantime, still had a drink in each hand. With a good-natured shrug, he offered the second drink to Illya, who responded with a wan smile.

“That is very kind of you, but I think I shall refrain for the time being,” he said, politely. “I’m sure Mother will come back for that drink, anyway.”

Leopold blinked, suddenly understanding.

“…You and Napoleon didn’t come here for a pleasure trip,” he realized. “You two are on duty, aren’t you?”

“Er… yes. I’m sorry, Father; we did not expect you two here at all, and we must get back to work,” Illya said, apologetically. “…Exactly how much time were you and Mother planning to spend in the casino?”

“…Er…” Leopold said. “I’m sorry, Illya, but we have reservations in this hotel.” He gave Illya a sympathetic look as the Russian’s face fell. “Cora and I, we’ve been wanting to celebrate the anniversary of the day we first met. And, naturally, we thought that coming back to Las Vegas, where it happened, would be a great way to celebrate. It was a bit of an impulse decision, and, as a result, finding reservations wasn’t easy; this hotel was one of the last ones with available rooms…”

“It cannot be helped,” Illya conceded. “You understand, of course, that our concern is that if any of our enemies realize that you are Napoleon’s parents, they will not hesitate to attempt to use the two of you as leverage.”

“I know,” Leopold sighed. “Cora told me all about the time when that Emory Partridge fellow tried to kidnap her; it’s a lucky thing for all of us that he underestimated her ability to defend herself.”

“Very much so,” Illya agreed.

“Rest assured that neither of us have any intentions of allowing ourselves to be used as leverage against you boys.”

“Thank you,” Illya said. “Just try to keep a low profile; with any luck, Napoleon and I can finish the mission quickly.”

“We’ll try to stay out of your way, then,” Leopold promised.

“Right. And if you happen to see the owner of this casino, see if you can let us know—as discreetly as possible, of course,” Illya requested.

“Of course,” Leopold echoed. “But how will know the owner?”

“This is him,” Illya said, showing the picture from the mission briefing file.

Leopold stared at the photograph, a look of dawning recognition—and horror—growing on his face.

“…Is everything alright?” Illya asked, knowing all too well that it wasn’t.

“No,” Leopold said, his normally good nature changing rapidly. “This man… Is his last name Rex?”

“ _Da_ , Thomas Rex,” Illya said. He paused, about to ask the obvious. “…You know him, don’t you?”

Leopold’s expression changed to a deep frown.

“All too well,” he replied. “Well, Illya, you and Napoleon can cast aside all worries about Cora and I drawing too much attention to ourselves—we’re checking out of this hotel _right now_. Excuse me, please.”

Illya stared, stunned, as Leopold handed both drinks to him and made a beeline straight for Cora and the poker table. Obviously, Leopold and Cora had some very unpleasant history with Rex if Leopold wanted them to leave—and without any guarantee that they’d get reservations elsewhere.

And as Leopold continued to head towards Cora, Illya now headed towards Napoleon, who saw him coming and finished up his hand, collecting his chips as Illya approached; the look of concern didn’t escape him.

“What is it?” Napoleon asked. “Did you see Rex?”

“ _Nyet_ ; but something is happening. Did either of your parents ever mention Rex before—anything at all when you were young?”

Napoleon shook his head and looked over at the poker table. Leopold was pulling Cora aside, and showing her the photograph that Illya had given him. Cora noticeably paled; she said something to her husband and nodded, turned back to the poker table, collected her chips, and moved to where she could cash them, with Leopold right by her side.

“Ma and Dad both know Rex,” Napoleon realized.

“And, clearly, the memories are not good ones,” Illya added.

“Clearly…” Napoleon said. He was torn, wanting to check up on his distraught parents, yet knowing that he couldn’t afford to break his cover.

“They were checked in at this hotel,” Illya went on. “But now Father wants to leave—without any guarantee that they’ll get reservations elsewhere. Napoleon, what could it be that got the two of them nervous enough to run? Even Mother—she is normally as stubborn as they come, but even she seems eager to avoid running into Rex again.”

“You’re right; I’ve never seen Ma this nervous, and that includes the time she was with Partridge,” Napoleon said. “I wish we could help…”

“I know, but we best not—we can’t have them linked to us when we’ve got THRUSHies around…” Illya trailed off. “Oh, dear…”

“What?”

“…Rex got smoked out after all.”

Napoleon and Illya could only stare, helpless, as Rex emerged from a back room, making a beeline for Cora and Leopold as they attempted to leave.

“‘Oh dear’ is right,” Napoleon sighed.


	2. Act II: Family Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Napoleon’s mother comparing herself to the Queen of Hearts is purely coincidental to the fact that she shares her name with an especially cold and dark version of the Queen of Hearts character. There are no other similarities.

Napoleon and Illya were making their way towards Rex in a vain attempt at intercepting him; Rex had too much of a headstart, however, and being flanked by suited men who were, undoubtedly, his bodyguards, trying to stop him from behind was going to be impossible. Nevertheless, it certainly wasn’t about to stop Napoleon from coming to the aid of his parents if needed.

Sensing this, Illya gently touched Napoleon’s shoulder.

“You cover things here,” Illya said, quietly. “This may be the best opportunity at the moment for me to root around in Rex’s office.”

“Be careful,” Napoleon whispered back.

Illya nodded and slipped away; the crowd, watching Rex and Napoleon’s parents getting ready to confront each other, didn’t give him a second glance.

Cora stood defiantly glaring up at Rex, who was a foot taller than her—Leopold, slightly shorter than Rex, stood by her side.

For his part, however, Rex was staring with a look of sheer amazement and awed disbelief. This did not fade, even after Cora addressed him coldly.

“Rex,” she hissed, a scowl lining her face.

“Cora Stroller…?” Rex merely replied. “Is that really you?”

“No; I’m a mirage—we are in the desert after all,” she replied, venom audible in her voice. “Drink some water; I’ll disappear soon enough.” As though to illustrate her point, she cast a glance at the exit.

“Let you out of my sight now after losing you 40 years ago?” Rex asked. “Not a chance! Cora, do you realize that for the last 40 years, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought about you?”

“Really? Because I haven’t thought about you once in the last 40 years,” Cora shot back. “Maybe you didn’t realize that I left Las Vegas to get married!”

She flashed her left hand in front of him to show her wedding ring while grasping Leopold’s hand with her right.

Rex now glared at Leopold, who glared right back.

“Ah, of course, Rich Boy Solo. You always did want to follow the money, Cora. It’s a shame—I could have provided for you just as well.”

That remark earned Rex the wrath of all three Solos—Napoleon swore and attempted to make his way to Rex, and Leopold clenched a fist, getting ready to punch him. But they were both out-sped by Cora, who planted a resounding slap across Rex’s face.

“How _dare_ you…?” she hissed. “How dare you insinuate that you were entitled to me in any way! How dare you be so arrogant to think that I ever had any feelings for you in the first place? And how _dare_ you insinuate that I married for money!?” If looks could kill, Rex would have dropped dead on the spot. “It just goes to show that you never really knew me at all—I was the Queen of Hearts, not the Queen of Diamonds!” She turned to her husband. “Leopold, we’re leaving.”

She and her husband turned to go, but more of Rex’s bodyguards blocked the exit. Cora glared back.

“What are you doing!?”

“Making it up to you,” Rex said. “I know you have reservations here—I couldn’t believe it when I saw the log. The least I can do is let you stay in your suite free of charge. …I must… insist.”

“…It sounds to me like you’re trying to keep me here against my will,” Cora said, darkly.

“Think of it more as persistent insistence,” Rex said. “And good luck trying to find another place to stay in town—everywhere is booked solid.”

“I think it would be quite quaint, staying in a cozy, little motel outside of town,” Cora replied. “You wouldn’t mind, would you Leopold?”

“Not at all, my dear; not at all.”

“Then it’s settled,” Cora said. She turned back to Rex. “Tell your Sasquatches to get away from the door and let us out.”

The bodyguards did not move, nor did Rex say a word. In fact, more guards now appeared near pay phones, as though making sure that the Solos wouldn’t be able to call out for assistance. Leopold now drew a protective arm around Cora.

“It would appear this ‘persistent insistence’ is tantamount to kidnapping after all,” he intoned.

“You can leave at any time, Rich Boy—in fact, I’d prefer it,” Rex said. “What I have to say concerns Cora.”

“There is nothing you have to say that I want to hear,” Cora replied. “You may think you have us trapped in your Paradise all alone, without help, but it isn’t just your flunkies here on the inside.”

“I know your penchant for conning people into doing your bidding,” Rex said. “But here, I am the king; you won’t find yourself able to sway my men to your side. And there are other men working here, men who you will also be unable to sway. As for the other patrons, I’m sure it’ll be quite clear that it’ll be in their best interests to avoid talking to you. You won’t be able to get them to do your bidding, either. But, I suppose you’ve always enjoyed playing when the odds were hopelessly stacked against you. Perhaps luck will smile upon you again as it did then.”

“Oh, there was a fair amount of skill involved. And so be it, King of Clubs, you shall match wits with the Queen of Hearts once more—and the King of Hearts, as well,” Cora added, taking Leopold’s hand again.

Rex’s expression was unreadable, but he didn’t seem too concerned; he was determined that Cora wouldn’t be able to escape the building without taking to him. He merely shrugged, acting almost casually.

“When you’re ready to talk to me, let me know,” he said. “The sooner you act reasonably, the sooner you’ll be able to leave.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Cora said.

Rex didn’t reply to that; he turned, obviously heading back for his office. Napoleon quickly pulled out his communicator and reached out to Illya.

“Tactical retreat, _Tovarisch_ ; he’s heading back your way.”

Illya didn’t need telling twice; he quickly bolted, and Napoleon now got an idea, looking at his communicator. Absently, he twirled his communicator pen in his fingers as he casually walked past his parents; the pen dropped at their feet as he walked by. Understanding what he was trying to do, Cora picked the pen up and concealed it as Napoleon continued on, meeting with Illya as he reentered the room.

“What did I miss?” Illya asked.

“Plenty; apparently, Rex was in a triangle with Ma and Dad—that’s how they knew him.”

“Of course,” Illya said, not sounding surprised at all.

“Well, not so much a triangle as two sides perfectly in love with each other and a third side trying to force his way in to where he was definitely not wanted.”

“Oh, one of _those_ …”

“Yeah, but it’s gotten worse; he’s fundamentally trapped Ma and Dad here—not letting them leave or use the phones,” Napoleon said, darkly. “I slipped them my communicator; we need to talk to them. What did you find out?”

Illya sighed.

“I found that Rex definitely had ties to THRUSH in the ‘20s; we still need proof that he has those ties now. There is… more—and I think we should have this conversation over the channel with your parents for that.”

“This concerns them?” Napoleon asked.

Wordlessly, Illya handed him an old, yellowed newsprint photograph that had been torn from a larger one; it was of a young Cora in her wedding dress, torn from a full news story that would have had Leopold there, as well—torn because Rex could not bear to see them together, but still wanted to see Cora as a bride.

“So that’s why you weren’t surprised when I told you about the triangle,” Napoleon said, his voice calm, yet laced with anger and disgust at the same time. “I know that full picture—it’s in Ma’s scrapbook at home.” He exhaled and observed his parents now attempting to go to a secluded corner, holding their hands together—cleverly concealing the communicator in the process.

Illya now called Napoleon’s communicator, the two of them standing together as Napoleon’s parents answered.

“Ma, Dad, are you alright?” Napoleon asked.

“As well as we can be for being held by a wannabe flame,” Cora said.

“It’s a lot darker than you think, Mother,” Illya said. “While looking in his office for evidence to tie him to THRUSH, I found a rather disturbing… plan he has in store. Apparently, once Rex had gotten wind of your reservation, he has formulated a plan to convince you to leave Father.”

“I’ll kill him…” Cora muttered.

“Napoleon, Illya…” Leopold said, as he squeezed Cora’s hand. “Is there any way you can just get us out of here?”

“We could tranquilize Rex, his bodyguards, and his flunkies,” Napoleon said. “We’d be entirely justified, since he’s holding you against your will.”

“I like that idea,” Leopold said.

“I don’t,” Mr. Waverly’s voice came over the channel.

“Who is that!?” Cora demanded.

“Alexander Waverly, head of U.N.C.L.E. Northwest,” he replied. “Mr. Solo?”

“Yes?” Napoleon and Leopold said, in unison.

“The younger Mr. Solo, if you please,” Waverly said. “While I appreciate your ingenuity at finding a way to communicate with your parents, the fact remains that you and Mr. Kuryakin are there on a mission to find Rex’s ties to THRUSH. Attempting to liberate your parents will blow your cover and ruin the entire operation!”

“But, Sir, you can’t expect me to leave them to Rex’s mercy!” Napoleon protested. “They’re my _parents_!”

“Feel free to take whatever means within reason to protect them—but you are not storming the place to get them out, and that is final.”

“They could stay in our room,” Illya suggested. “At least then, Rex will not know where they are. We could slip them a set of keys when we pick up the communicator.”

“That, I can get behind,” Waverly agreed. “And once you have obtained the evidence you need, you can then focus on your unexpected objective.”

“I already have evidence of communications of Rex with Edward Moran, son of THRUSH co-founder Sebastian Moran,” Illya said. “Moran gave Rex a lot of money to help him get set up in Las Vegas with his underground gambling ring—undoubtedly, it was THRUSH’s money.”

“That was the way it was back then,” Cora said. “Especially with gambling being illegal—most of these outfits were funded by the Mob. I always assumed that Rex was involved with them.”

“Not at all,” Illya said. “According to these other communications I read, it would seem that the Mob was dissuaded by Moran’s presence. Apparently, as bad as they were, they considered THRUSH worse and wanted nothing to do with them.”

“As fascinating as that is, we need proof that Rex is working with current members of THRUSH,” Waverly said. “Is there any evidence of that?”

“The only communication I had seen from a current THRUSH agent was Victor Marton—but as this was in the ‘20s, he was not yet a THRUSH agent.”

“Marton is a THRUSH agent!?” Cora exclaimed.

A long, awkward silence followed.

“…You know Marton, Ma?” Napoleon asked.

“Casually,” Cora replied. “He used to frequent the underground gambling scene in Las Vegas, too—he left to return to France around the same time that Leopold and I left to get married.

“He was friendly towards both of us,” Leopold recalled. “Never would have guessed he’d go bad.”

Waverly cleared his throat.

“That isn’t important now; the important thing is getting that evidence while keeping our two innnocents safe.”

“Yes, we had best retreat to our room—separately, of course,” Illya said.

“And then we’d better tell you what we know about Rex,” Cora said. “Maybe something we know can be of use to you.”

“We will appreciate any pertinent information you can offer,” Waverly agreed. “Good luck, all of you.”

Napoleon exhaled.

“I keep forgetting everyone at headquarters can hear what’s being said over the open channel…”

“Can that rude fellow still hear us?” Cora asked.

“ _Ma_ …!”

“Well, he was the one sticking his nose into our private conversation!”

“He is also our boss, Mother,” Illya said, flinching slightly. “I say we go with the plan of meeting in our room to discuss things further.”

He closed the communicator and gave Napoleon a look.

“Think he’ll let that one pass?”

“He’d better—as if I’m supposed to control what Ma says?” Napoleon asked. “She says and does what she wants!”

Illya knew it was true—and he hoped that, in all of this that was about to unfold, he and Napoleon would able to keep her and Leopold safe.


	3. Act III: Family History

After a bit more trickery and subterfuge involving slipped keys, Illya and the three Solos had successfully snuck to the room that he and Napoleon had booked for themselves—under Illya’s favorite alias, Dr. Mallard. The four of them breathed a sigh of relief upon successfully making it here unobserved.

“Well, we can relax—for a little while,” Napoleon said. “Once Rex realizes that he’s lost you, he’ll start turning this place upside-down to try to find you.” He paused. “Was he always this obnoxious, Ma?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Ever since he found out I was a woman.”

Napoleon stared at his mother with an unreadable expression as Leopold just sighed and shook his head.

“I think more explanation is required, Mother,” Illya said, taking note of the look on his partner’s face.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Cora said. “Napoleon, Illya… I don’t want you to think I kept this from you on purpose. It was so long ago, and I never expected to see Rex ever again. If we’d only known that he owned this place, Leopold and I would not have come here; I had no desire to see him again.”

“It’s alright…” Napoleon said, though he still seemed stunned by everything. “But I’m still confused as to how he had to figure out you were a woman…”

“Well, that’s easy—I was disguised as a man,” Cora said. “I did the underground gambling circuit in disguise as ‘Corrin Stroller.’ It was difficult enough being taken seriously as someone as young as I was; they would never have let a woman in there.”

“…So when Father said that you took him for a ride when you first met…” Illya began. “You did so as a man?”

“Did I forget to mention that part?” Leopold asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Napoleon and Illya echoed.

“I only took him for a ride to stop him from being taken for a ride by others who would not have been as nice about it as I was,” Cora said. “I had every intention of returning the money to him, and I did…” She shrugged. “…Eventually…”

“To her credit, she did give the money back after a while—and that was before I found out she was a woman,” Leopold said.

“I finally told him who I really was after I’d known him for several months,” Cora said. “He kept my secret. And, eventually, we started a relationship—by day. By night, we hit the casinos together. Leopold came across as an easy mark; he’d rope people into a poker game, and I’d clean them out.”

Napoleon blinked.

“Huh…” he mused. “Now there’s an idea…”

“Don’t even think about it,” Illya deadpanned.

Napoleon shrugged and continued.

“And how does Rex fit into all of this?”

“Well, he owned a few underground casinos here in Las Vegas; Leopold and I must have caught his attention from all of our winnings,” Cora said.

“He must have seen me with Cora out in a restaurant or something one day and saw me with ‘Corrin’ that following night,” Leopold sighed. “Whatever it was, he put two and two together and realized she was a woman.”

“Getting kicked out of the casino circuit would have been a preferable fate as opposed to what happened,” Cora sighed.

“What happened?” Napoleon asked.

“Rex kept trying to get me to marry him,” Cora muttered. “Didn’t matter where I went in Las Vegas, even if it was a different casino that he didn’t own, he kept after me, proposing like he had every right to demand it. After turning him down for the umpteenth time, he started threatening me—threatened to let everyone know I was a woman, which would ensure that I would be kicked out of most casinos, if not all of them—this was after gambling was legalized in Las Vegas, but they still wouldn’t have been welcoming to a woman. Even so, that didn’t bother me; I figured he would have too much trouble trying to prove it, in any case. And after a few more months of this, he changed his tactics…” Her expression went cold. “He threatened Leopold. I told you that most of the casino owners were affiliated with the Mob; I assumed Rex was, too. Now you’re telling me it’s THRUSH, who probably weren’t much better…”

Napoleon muttered something under his breath.

“They are, indeed, much worse. I told you, Mother,” Illya added, casting a glance at Napoleon to make sure he was alright. “The Mob didn’t even want anything to do with THRUSH. If Rex had been threatening to use them, he would have most certainly delivered on that threat.”

“I didn’t want to call his bluff,” Cora admitted. “I couldn’t take a chance that they’d kill Leopold. I agreed to marry Rex.” She shuddered, and Leopold placed a hand on her shoulder, which she gently touched with her own hand. “I don’t think you boys could ever understand what it’s like to be held at gunpoint, facing the prospect of being eternally bound to someone you don’t love…”

“…Actually, Ma, I can…” Napoleon said. He made a face. “…Twice…”

“… _What_.”

“I got him out of it,” Illya assured her. “But, please, continue. How did you manage to escape Rex?”

“Well, Rex insisted we get married that evening—had his flunkies go with me everywhere to get a dress and then go to a wedding chapel. I didn’t even have a chance to find Leopold, let alone talk to him. So, I dropped the Queen of Hearts from the deck I always carried with me.”

“Cora always told me that the Queen of Hearts represented who she truly was,” Leopold said. “The hearts represented the love she had—love for life, love of adventure… and, of course, her love for me. And I also knew that Cora cared about her cards—they were everything to her. And when I saw the Queen of Hearts on the floor, from her deck… I knew she was in trouble.”

“It was the biggest gamble of my life,” Cora said. “I quite literally waged my very life on that card. But it paid off.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the old Queen of Hearts card. “I kept it with me all these years. Leopold followed my trail downtown and saw me with the wedding dress and followed me to the chapel. I was in the wedding dress, Rex’s goons guarding the door outside the changing room… And then I heard Leopold’s voice outside the room, saying that he was a photographer’s assistant, and that Rex had hired a photographer to take pictures of me in my wedding dress. And in he comes with the photographer.”

“I had to bribe him with a considerable amount of cash, but it was worth it,” Leopold said, kissing the back of Cora’s hand.

“Naturally, I explained what was going on,” Cora said. “And Leopold offered to help me escape—not just the wedding, but Las Vegas and Rex—no strings attached. We had a storage locker at the train station with things we would need for a quick getaway, in case we ever made any enemies with our casino escapades. The Depression had hit the country and the money wasn’t going to go as far as it would have, so Leopold offered me the entire thing if it meant I could escape Rex and be happy. And then I told him that there was one more thing I’d need to take with me in order to be truly happy—him.”

Napoleon and Illya both stared in interest.

“Ma, you mean _you_ proposed to Dad?”

“My philosophy in life was that if there was something I wanted, I would attempt to pursue it,” Cora shrugged. “This was no different.”

“Of course, I said, yes,” Leopold said. “And, after bribing the photographer some more, we convinced Rex’s goons that Rex wanted some photos of Cora in her dress outside. And we ran the first chance we got—only to run into the priest who was supposed to have wedded Cora and Rex.”

“…And I had the idea to have the priest marry the two of us right then and there,” Cora said. “It was a two-minute ceremony, with the photographer as the witness. …And then he went and published the wedding photo in the paper the next day, but we were already on the train to Chicago by then.”

“We had another, more official ceremony performed there,” Leopold said. “We thought about staying in Chicago after we’d been there a few months.”

“Yes, the gambling circuit there was interesting, and I certainly would have loved to have played my way around it,” Cora mused. “But two things derailed that plan; first of all, we caught wind that Rex was coming to Chicago from Vegas. Secondly, what I thought was nausea brought about by the news of Rex’s arrival ended up being morning sickness.” She stared pointedly at Napoleon, who went slightly red. “At that point, we had done well for ourselves in spite of the Depression, and so, we decided it wasn’t worth the risk of Rex finding us. We slipped away to New York and decided to give up the gambling circuit and prepare for our new addition.”

Napoleon looked away.

“You gave up doing something you loved because of me?”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” Leopold insisted. “We had our thrills of youth, and we always knew that we would have to eventually turn to something steady and practical. I’d always intended to get into journalism; I was pleased to get the chance to do so. And your mother has enjoyed raising corgis…”

“We could have easily gone back on the circuit after you were born—Atlantic City wasn’t that far away,” Cora reminded him. “But after all of those crazy adventures, it was nice to relax and pursue other endeavors. I was very happy with my life, and you were a great part of that happiness, Napoleon—another heart for the Queen of Hearts.”

Napoleon managed a smile.

“I guess that makes me the King of Hearts now, huh?”

“Well…” Cora mused, taking a new, complete deck of cards from her purse. “Maybe I never went back on the circuit, but I would say that my consort and I did not formally abdicate yet…”

Napoleon gave his mother a long look.

“…I’m still the Jack, aren’t I?”

“Uh-huh.”

Leopold chuckled at them, but then noticed that Illya was deep in thought.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong,” Illya assured him. “I am just marveling at all of the happenstance that filled your lives over one playing card—it was by sheer chance that you found the card she dropped and knew what she was trying to convey, then being able to save Mother from marrying Rex, and then you two having Napoleon—and then him getting drafted at 18 and meeting Mark Slate after getting appendicitis in Korea, which would inspire him to join U.N.C.L.E. and lead to my eventually getting transferred to New York to work with him…. All four of us are together in this room now because of that card.” He indicated the Queen of Hearts still in Cora’s other hand. “Perhaps together, we can find a way out of this place and succeed in the mission Waverly assigned Napoleon and me.”

“Well, I _have_ been thinking,” Cora said, her brown eyes deep in thought. “If you need proof that Rex is working with THRUSH… I’m sure I could set up a trap—pretend to agree to speak with him and get him to confess anything and everything to me with a bit of feminine wiles--”

“ _No_!” all three men said at once.

“…Well it was just a thought…”

“It’s far too risky, Ma,” Napoleon said. “You tricked him once before by pretending to go along with him and then slipping out from under his nose. But maybe we can get evidence another way…”

“What are you thinking?” Illya asked.

“What Ma said about a trap has me thinking…. I’ll bet money that Rex booby-trapped their suite the moment he found out that Ma was coming here. If I can sweep the room and find any THRUSH devices in those traps, that will be the proof we need. Illya, can you watch over Ma and Dad while I’m up there?”

“Of course. But take care that you don’t end up tripping any of the traps yourself,” Illya warned.

“Naturally,” Napoleon said.

Knowing that his parents were as safe with Illya as they would have been with him, Napoleon borrowed their key and headed to their suite, beginning to look around. To his relief, there didn’t seem to be anything in the way of deadly traps—he hadn’t put anything past Rex where his father was concerned. But, after a thorough search, he uncovered several small jets of sleeping gas.

Napoleon removed two of the jets, picketing the cartridges of sleeping gas; if it matched the kind of gas that THRUSH was known to use, then that would be the proof that THRUSH supplied Rex with these. The remainder of the sweep uncovered a few listening devices, but nothing much else.

Still, the sleeping gas was more than enough cause for concern, but it was their first possible bit of condemning evidence. Napoleon now moved to leave the room, but paused as he heard footsteps from the corridor, rapidly approaching the room.

“You’re sure you saw someone go into Cora’s suite?” he heard Rex ask. “Did you see who it was?”

“No, Sir,” a guard was saying. “We saw someone go in, but it all happened so quickly; I assume it is either Ms. Stroller or her husband….”

Rex’s tone darkened at the mention of Leopold.

And Napoleon froze, wondering what to do. Left with no other options, he ducked into the washroom, hoping that he would be able to snag a chance to sneak out while Rex was occupied in searching the room.


	4. Act IV: Family First

Napoleon waited, wondering what to do as the voices drew closer towards the washroom. Thinking quickly, he noticed a green bathrobe hanging on the wall, changed out of his suit, and threw the robe on as they used a passkey to open the washroom door, just managing to conceal his communicator and his Special in the robe.

“I beg your pardon!?” Napoleon exclaimed, tightening the robe around him, sounding as affronted as he possibly could.

Rex stared in utter befuddlement at Napoleon, who glared right back. No one spoke for a moment.

“Sir… are you sure we’ve got the right room?” one of the flunkies asked, at last, in a very embarrassed tone.

“Of course I’m sure!” Rex snarled. He turned back to Napoleon. “Who are you!?”

“I should you be asking you that!” Napoleon said. “Just who do you think you are, barging in like this!? A man needs his privacy!”

Rex ignored him, and instead reached for the pants that Napoleon had tossed aside. Napoleon realized that he was looking for identification, but that didn’t concern him, as he was carrying cover IDs. …At least, it didn’t concern him until he suddenly remembered that he was using “Albert Stroller” as an alias on this assignment—Albert being the name his mother had wanted to give him, and Stroller being her maiden name. In any other situation, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but now, in this case…

“Stroller…” Rex said, staring at the ID. “Albert Stroller!? You…” He stared at Napoleon, the realization sinking in as he saw Cora’s features in his face, as well. “Her son! You are Cora’s son!”

“…Strange as it is, Ma never mentioned things like this happening when she was fortune-hunting in Las Vegas,” Napoleon said, now trying to charm his way out of a situation he had never expected to deal with. “I’m sure she’ll find this interesting; just give me a moment and I can let her know…”

He tried to slip past them, only to be forced to stop as Rex pulled a gun on him. He cursed internally.

“Ah…. Look, I realize my name wasn’t on the reservation, but I was in town and decided to spend some quality time with my parents—I’m a traveling shoe salesman, you see, so when I found out…” Napoleon knew it was futile, but playing dumb was the only way of ensuring that he wouldn’t be searched—and that his U.N.C.L.E. equipment wouldn’t subsequently be found on him.

“Shut up,” Rex said, and he turned to a flunky. “Take him to a storeroom and lock him in there with a guard. Cora will have to talk with me now that I have her son as leverage—hold him until I find her.”

As the flunky marched Napoleon away at gunpoint, he had to marvel at the irony; he had expected Cora to be used as leverage against him—not the other way around. He went quietly as he was locked in the storeroom, waiting for a few minutes as the flunky now kept guard outside the door.

He took his communicator out and called Illya.

“Hey, Tovarisch,” he said, and then began to speak quietly, in Russian. “Don’t let Ma and Dad realize what’s going on, but my cover name of Albert Stroller ended up working against me once Rex found out about it.”

Illya groaned, quickly realizing what must have happened.

“Where are you?” he asked, also in Russian.

“Locked in a storeroom downstairs until Rex can find Ma and convince her to meet with him now that he’s got me where he wants me,” Napoleon replied. “He doesn’t know I’m with U.N.C.L.E., so it’s just one weak—but armed—guard outside. I have my Special and could shoot my way out myself.”

“So, why don’t you?” Illya asked.

“Because all I have on is a bathrobe, and I’d be rather conspicuous in that. I need clothes.”

There was a long pause.

“Please tell me there is an explanation,” Illya said, at last.

“There is, but for now, let’s simplify it with ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time,’ and I’ll explain the whole story later,” Napoleon said. “Look, my clothes are in Ma and Dad’s washroom, but Rex is bound to be guarding that, so forget it. Just grab another set of my clothes from my luggage and get them to me as soon as you can! …And make sure Ma and Dad are safe.”

“With the room in the name of ‘Dr. Mallard,’ they should be fine here. Don’t worry, Napoleon; I will be there as soon as I can.”

He signed off, and gave an awkward glance at Cora and Leopold.

“What’s going on?” Cora asked. “Napoleon didn’t want us to know about something—that’s why he was speaking Russian, wasn’t he?”

“He doesn’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” Illya said. “He just needs a little bit of backup, and I will give it to him, as we have done for each other countless times. I must ask the two of you to remain here until I return.”

He checked his Special, grabbed some clothes from Napoleon’s suitcase, gave the Solos a reassuring nod, and headed out the door, locking it behind him.

“I don’t like this,” Cora said. “Something went wrong and Napoleon didn’t want us to know about it. Why else would he speak in Russian?”

“That he was able to call was a good sign,” Leopold said. “Illya will bail him out—you heard what he said. They’ve done this before.”

“He mentioned ‘Albert Stroller,’” Cora went on.

“Someone from your side of the family?”

“No, that’s the thing—there is no Albert in my side of the family; that was the name I had wanted to give him before you stepped in with ‘Napoleon’ while I was still out of it!” Cora reminded him. “Napoleon has always known that! And Illya mentioned a ‘Dr. Mallard,’ and that was the name he had given the bellhop. They’re using fake names, Leopold—and Napoleon used Albert Stroller, not knowing my connection to Rex before this all started! Rex is trying to use Napoleon as leverage against me! After what happened all those years ago, Rex isn’t about to let me get away—Leopold, our boys are in serious danger, and it’s my fault!”

“…And all it would take would be for one of those THRUSH people to recognize them,” Leopold realized. He paused as he saw Cora heading for the door. “What are you doing!?”

“All this time, Rex thought he was going to have to deal with an unwilling bride. He’s about to deal with an angry mother instead.” She glanced back at her husband. “Are you coming, or what?”

“…Illya told us to stay here,” he reminded her. “Very likely under Napoleon’s instructions.”

“And they are both very sweet to look after the two of us, but Mother knows best,” Cora countered. “Can you sit idly by while our boys are in danger because of us?”

Leopold considered this.

“Alright,” he said. “But if we’re going to do this, let’s do this the right way—just like the old days.”

Cora’s eyes shined.

“Oh, I love the way you think! …If only you could pick better names…”

***************************

Illya soon showed up with a suit of clothes and a tranquilized guard to free his partner.

“How does this always seem to happen to you?” Illya inquired, as Napoleon hurriedly got his clothes on.

“Just my luck, I guess,” he said. “Okay; it’s a cinch that I’ve lost the element of surprise, so I’ll go stay with Ma and Dad and you see if you can gather the evidence.”

“I’ve already got one smoking gun—metaphorically speaking,” Illya said, picking up a THRUSH weapon from a box in the stock room. “It’s a gun, but it isn’t smoking—fortunately enough.”

Napoleon’s sour expression turned into one of eagerness.

“That’s it, Tovarisch, we’ve got the link! We can make our arrest!”

The duo moved to leave the store room, but halted as they heard Rex’s voice; he was talking to someone.

“The new weapons shipment came in; it’s down here with a prisoner I’ve been holding,” he was saying.

“Prisoner?” a familiar, raspy voice replied. “You never mentioned anything about a prisoner!”

“It’s not a THRUSH prisoner; it’s a personal prisoner; there’s no need to concern yourself with this matter, Korbel.”

Napoleon and Illya both exchanged glances.

“Anton Korbel…!” Illya exclaimed, his mind going back to the case they’d called The Fiddlesticks Affair, and how Napoleon had nearly suffocated in Korbel’s vault during the mission. “Bozhe moy…! Napoleon, from now on, we shouldn’t trust THRUSH to finish off their failing members.”

“…I think you’ve got a point,” Napoleon said, as he pulled Illya behind a stack of crates. “Shh.”

They waited, silently as Rex and Korbel approached, stopping as they noticed the tranquilized guard and ran in.

“He’s gone!” Rex fumed.

“Your prisoner!?” Korbel asked. “Who was he?”

“The son of someone I was hoping to convince to cooperate with me,” Rex muttered. “He couldn’t have gone far!”

“And he’s been poking around the THRUSH weapons!” Korbel said, indicating the open box. “He’s no longer a personal prisoner, Rex—THRUSH is involved now. You say he’s the son of someone you were trying to strong-arm? Get the parent, and make it clear to the son that you demand him to surrender.”

“I don’t know where she went,” Rex muttered. “That’s why I had the son—to get her to surrender!”

“Well, you’d better find at least one of them!” Korbel snapped. “In the meantime, let’s move these before anyone else finds them!”

Napoleon and Illya could only cringe as Rex and Korbel moved away the top boxes of weapons, revealing their hiding place.

“Stroller!” Rex exclaimed, as Korbel stared at them in a mixture of horror and sheer hatred. “It’s the son!”

“It’s Solo and Kuryakin!” Korbel hissed, venom in his voice as he drew a gun on them.

“Solo…?” Rex asked.

“Solo, Stroller—same difference…” Napoleon said, with a shrug. “We’ll be on our way--”

“They’re U.N.C.L.E. agents!” Korbel fumed. “And you were going after Solo for some personal reasons? I should kill the both of them right now for what they did to me!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Rex said. “Do what you want with Kuryakin; I need Solo in order to get his mother out of hiding—you’ve heard me mention of Cora Stroller before, haven’t you--?”

“This is not the time to try to blackmail your runaway bride from decades ago!” Korbel exclaimed in disbelief. “We need to interrogate these two, find out how much U.N.C.L.E. knows about our operations here, and then eliminate them before they pull some ridiculous plan to ruin the operation here like they did in my casino four years ago!”

Rex blinked, and then pointed at Napoleon.

“He gets it from his mother, I can tell you--”

“REX!” Korbel bellowed. He then drew his weapon on Napoleon and Illya again as they attempted to slink away.

“Alright, Korbel, you go and question them,” Rex said. “It’s a cinch that Cora is in their room--”

“No, she isn’t, Boss,” a voice said.

Napoleon’s heart leaped into his throat as he saw his father being paraded into the stock room at gunpoint by one of Rex’s flunkies, a hat pulled down over their face.

“Dad…!”

“Where is Cora!?” Rex demanded.

“She got away; they others are looking for her,” the flunky said.

Leopold was hastily shoved over to where Napoleon and Illya were standing.

“Now this has possibilities,” Korbel mused.

“Don’t,” Napoleon warned, standing between Korbel and Leopold. “He’s not a part of this. I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“Oh, I know you will, Solo—I knew you would as long as we had your partner with you,” Korbel said. “Which makes your old man here completely unnecessary, if you ask me.”

“Completely unnecessary!” Rex echoed, sounding almost eager.

“What’s in these things?” Rex’s flunky asked, suddenly picking up Napoleon’s Special from where he and Illya had placed their weapons after Korbel had drawn on them. “They did a number on the guard, but he doesn’t seem dead.”

“Tranquilizers,” Korbel scoffed. “U.N.C.L.E. has yet to learn the lesson that mercy is for the weak—and that efficiency means getting rid of unnecessary things.”

Korbel pointed his weapon over Napoleon’s shoulder, at Leopold’s head.

“No--!” Napoleon began, but he stopped in surprise as the flunky pointed his Special at Korbel and fired. Korbel dropped like a rock, and before Rex could react, he, too, had been tranquilized.

“What…?” Illya asked.

Leopold just shook his head.

“You couldn’t have acted a little more quickly?”

Napoleon and Illya stared as the “flunky” now took off the wide-brimmed fedora hat, revealing Cora beneath it.

“…Ma!?” Napoleon asked. “You…? …Is that one of my suits?”

“I’ve had better fits, but thank goodness you took after me in the height department and not your father.” Her expression softened. “And thank goodness you boys are going to be alright.”

She rushed forward and hugged Napoleon tightly; though still trying to process what had just happened, he hugged her back. She then let him go and turned to Illya; he took a moment to come to grips with the fact that this was a genuine maternal hug. This wasn’t the first such hug Cora had given him, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was still an incredible thing to remember—that he had a family again after losing the one he’d been born into during the horrors of the war.

She let Illya go now and kissed her husband as they two of them began to tie up their prisoners.

“And who is this miserable thing?” Cora asked, looking at Korbel.

“An old foe of ours, Ma,” Napoleon said. “We made things a bit embarrassing for him four years ago.”

“We only embarrassed him,” Illya said, darkly. “He tried to asphyxiate you in his vault, remember, Napoleon?”

“…He what?” Cora asked, her voice going dangerously cold.

Napoleon now scrambled to retrieve Korbel’s real gun as Cora began to search for it.

Leopold shook his head.

“…She’s talked about applying to U.N.C.L.E. part-time to handle interrogations,” he informed Illya. “I’ve been talking her out of it.”

Illya smirked, clearly relishing the thought of Cora demanding answers from those who had dared attack her son.

“While I doubt Mr. Waverly would hire her… next time, try not to talk her out of it,” Illya requested.

Leopold’s eyebrows arched for a moment as he glanced at Illya, and then looked back at his wife and son; Napoleon was trying to stop his mother from following through on a kick she had aimed at the unconscious Korbel.

Leopold then just chuckled and clapped Illya on the back.

“I think two family members in this business are more than enough,” he said.

And Illya went slightly red, for Leopold had just confirmed what Cora’s hug had told him earlier—

This was his family now, and they would be together for another day with this mission now complete. And Illya was grateful for it.

****

The End


End file.
